


Adrenaline

by xoxemmagxox



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura owns a dance school, Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ballet Dancer Lance, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Friends to Lovers, Garrison trio work at a coffee shop, Keith & Shiro & Allura & Matt Friendship, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), There's dancing.. obviously, dance au, hunk & lance & pidge friendship, rivals to friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-01-31 02:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12666603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxemmagxox/pseuds/xoxemmagxox
Summary: Keith's dance style has always been influenced by ballet. He's fascinated by the grace and control ballet dancers show. So, of course, when Allura (out of the kindness of her heart) offers him a temporary spot in her dance school, he's beyond nervous.How could he have expected his life to slowly collapse around him because of a boy in blue ballet shoes?





	1. Pumpkin Spice and All Things Nice

**Author's Note:**

> Heeyaaa  
> So, this has always been something I wanted to do,but I'm really afraid of letting people read my stuff??  
> However, I've been searching and I've decided that there aren't enough ballet AUs on this site, and when you want something done, why not do it yourself?  
> *DISCLAIMER* I'll be using my Spanish lessons to write some of Lance's dialogue, but if you spot any mistakes in the Spanish or the translations, please please tell me! I'll edit it right away  
> I'm always open to suggestions and requests, anything that you guys would like to make this work that little bit better.  
> Anyways, enough rambling, let's get started!  
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is a dancer. He's always been a dancer, and his style has had balletic aspect for as long as he can remember.  
> It's not the dancing that's stopping him from dancing ballet, it's always been the people.  
> So, when Allura makes an offer that's difficult to turn down, how is he meant to find a way out now?

Adrenaline was racing through his veins at a pace that probably should have been painful, if it weren’t for the rush that was coursing through his body.

He felt a smug smile tug at the corners of his lips as he stopped his quick movements and scanned his surroundings, only pausing for what must have been a fraction of a second, but felt like an eternity. He could see the sun glistening happily through the myriad of trees surrounding the hot, stone path that he was stopped on. He watched as the people surrounding him- there were around 30, maybe more- stared, some gawking wordlessly, some nudging their friends and whispering in hushed awe, and others had their phones in front of their faces, most likely recording him to upload to various social media later in the day.

No matter what they were doing there, each of the individuals around him shared a common expression, one that he couldn’t get enough of: excitement.

This is what Keith Kogane lived off: the energy of the crowds, the looks on their faces, their applause, the _excitement_. This is where Keith thrived; this world of both performance and competition, this life of learning constantly, whether it was a new routine or a simple step, his dance was forever evolving and improving.

The music driving his mind and body began to slow to an end, and it was only when Keith hit the ending position on the final beat that he realised just how damn tired he was. He held still for a few moments before his sober face fractured immediately into a smile and he began to gasp for air. His spectators promptly broke into a series of excited claps and cheers as Keith let a chuckle bubble over his lips, and dropped swiftly to the ground, lying on his back and drew longs breaths, hands placed on his lower stomach. He closed his eyes and listened as the chatter of his audience and their footsteps began to disperse. _Good,_ he thought to himself, _one more dance and I’m going to pass out in the middle of the path._

In honesty, Keith could’ve fallen asleep where he has, the warmth of the sun still hitting him through the trees, but the cool of the stone calming and strangely grounding under his back. In fact, he felt himself slowly slipping away, the exhaustion of a day of dancing fuelled by one lonely hour of sleep rapidly catching up with him. The sweet song of sleep was filling his head, passing under his eyelids, his lips, his hands and feet, all sinking slowly into the stone beneath him.

Well, that _was_ the case until he felt a hard boot prod into his side, quickly ripping him from the gentle grasp of a peaceful slumber. Keith groaned softly and rolled onto his side in an attempt to somehow roll away from the sleep disturber, slowly shifting in the process to hug his knees to his chest.

A mere few moments of peace later, the boot returned, this time poking at his face. _Maybe if it thinks that I’m asleep it’ll go away._ Keith forced his muscles to let any tension fall away, and he began to take in deep, slow breaths.

For what felt like a good few minutes, the boot left him alone, and he began to feel as though his wishful thinking had paid off. However, it was soon replaced with the cold contents of a bottle of water emptying on his face.

Keith shot up to sit defensively immediately, spluttering and gasping, staring at the cold-hearted man standing over him. “Shiro, what the _fuck_!?”

“Wake up sleepyhead, I need my coffee.” The older man combed his fingers through the long white hair at the front of his head, once again tipping the bottle and letting the last few drops fall on to the shocked face of the dancer below him.

“Shiro... _what the fuck?!_ ”

“Keith, I’m serious. Matt and Allura both have full bottles of water that I’m sure they won’t mind sacrificing for their weekly entertainment. Get up. Coffee. Now.”

Keith glanced at the bench behind his older brother and saw Matt lying across Allura’s lap, each of them grinning devilishly and waving their own bottles of water. While he knew that most of Shiro’s threats were empty threats, he had no doubt in his mind that the two friends lounging on the park bench wouldn’t waste a second to follow through with their plans.

Allura’s long, white hair made her look like a beautiful angel who had been literally sent from the sky, and the mop of almost-ginger hair on Matt’s head, when paired with his perfectly round glasses, made him seem like a cute kid who spent his free time reading about the wellbeing of kittens, but Keith knew the truth. Keith knew that they were both most likely the closest things to the devil, probably the human embodiments of pineapple on pizza, simultaneously the best and worst things in his life.

“Fine,” the younger boy grumbled, slowly picking himself off the ground “but you’re paying.”

Shiro just flashed him one of his gorgeous grins and slug an arm around his shoulder, guiding him towards the bench that the other half of ‘The Best Squad and Keith’ (as named by Matt when Keith told him that pineapple did not belong on pizza) were stretched across.

Allura was now fiddling absentmindedly with the waves and curls in Matt’s hair with one hand, while texting one of her many friends with the other. She seemed completely immersed in whatever conversation she was having, but her head snapped up with a dazzling smile as the brothers neared the bench.

“Keith! Awesome show, as per usual. That triple pirouette you pulled off in _Applause_ was something I’d expect from my dancers, and they’re trained in ballet! Seriously, you should consider taking up ballet, you’d be a natural.”

“Ha, thanks Allura.” Keith sighed and stretched to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly.

In honesty, he’d always admired ballet dancers. His mother used to take him to watch ballet performances when he was younger, and he’d been completely captivated in the grace of their movements. The lines and shapes they created with their bodies, the raw emotion in their dances and their seamless transitions from one picture of elegance to another had held his attention like an iron fist, allowing him to get addicted to the performances. Even later on in life, ballet had greatly inspired Keith’s style, as he tried to incorporate as many ballet-inspired movements into his routines as possible. Ballet classes didn’t exactly sound appealing to him, but he’d love to study that style closely. “I’ll think about it.”

Shiro hummed quietly beside him and Keith looked up to see Shiro’s eyebrows drawn together in The Thinking Face. “I think you should properly consider it Keith. You’re already an incredible dancer, and while your style leans more towards street dance, I think certain aspects of your dances could be made beautiful with some proper training on the side.”

Keith’s face was flushing with the weight of the compliments he was receiving. He generally didn’t let people know just how inspired he was by ballet, defending his ‘street cred’ or something like that.

Allura owned a ballet school and taught classes to people of all ages, so Keith was sure that she had spotted his weak attempts to loosely replicate the style. Shiro, however, was completely lacking in dance knowledge and was purely suggesting ballet because he thought it would improve his dance, and not because he knew he was interested.

“Well,” Matt’s voice broke loudly through Keith’s thoughts. “I’m so sorry to interrupt this _riveting_ conversation, but I’ve been sitting on this bench for the past two hours and I literally just want to replace my blood with sugar and coffee, so can we _please_ move?”

Keith mentally thanked Matt for the opportunity to make his way out of this internal debate and poked Shiro sharply in the side. “Shiro’s paying.” He took a glance at Matt and Allura’s slowly growing grins and then turned on his heel and started to stroll to the park gates, pausing for a moment to grab his bag and speaker from the spot that he’d been dancing in only minutes ago.

The whoops and cheers from the bench and the playful groan from his older brother worked together in a happy melody, successfully scooping Keith’s solemn expression into a warm, content smile.

 

**____________________**

 

“Chai tea latte for Keith!”

Matt scoffed beside him. “Chai tea latte? Seriously? Can you get more basic white girl?”

“I mean, I could be white... or a girl.”

“Nah man, you’re more of a white girl than white girls.”

Keith barked out a laugh and rolled his eyes with a small smile. “That makes no sense? Now I’m gonna go get my ‘white girl’ drink, and I’m gonna enjoy it.”’

Matt muttered something in reply, but Keith was already walking away and towards the counter. A man with a warm smile had a hand outstretched with his drink in it. As he saw Keith approach, his smile only seemed to grow. He was tall, not exactly skinny, but his soft and caring eyes seemed emit happiness wherever they graced with their gaze. An orange bandana was keeping his floppy hair off of his face, letting more of his darker skin show.

When Keith reached him, the man set his drink down on the light, wooden counter. Keith picked it up with a polite smile that only grew as the warmth from his drink washed over his hands. He closed his eyes momentarily with satisfaction and heard the barista chuckle with a homely heaviness.

“Nice choice Keith!” The man’s voice caused a sort of calmness to settle in Keith. “That’s one of my all time favourite drinks. Consider yours made with extra love, us chai tea latte bros gotta look out for each other.”

A bubble of laughter escaped Keith’s lips. “Yeah, I guess we do... uh...” His eyes landed on the heavily decorated nametag on the kind stranger’s apron. “...Hunk. I guess we do.”

Hunk opened his mouth to speak when a high pitched voice yelled from the back room of the small coffee shop. “Hunk! I need you to help Lance finish this level! I honestly think I’ll throw him off a bridge if I have to deal with this anymore!”

A small, apologetic smile was tossed Keith’s way. “Duty calls. I'll just get someone to bring your friend his drink.” He whispered, then proceeded to yell back to the anonymous voice. “You have to work out here then! Can’t leave the machines on their own!”

The large man quickly grabbed a cloth and wiped the machines down in a few swift swipes, then turned on his heel and, while flashing another grin over his shoulder, pushed open a door and slipped quietly though it.

Keith brought his drink to his lips and slowly made his way back to the table. Matt was staring down at his phone, obviously trying to distance himself from Shiro and Allura's painful pining. The two of them had their elbows on the unstable table, with their chins resting on their hands. It was almost as if someone had pulled the scene from a cliché romance movie and the sight of it made Keith want to throw up a little.

Matt looked up as Keith pulled a chair out from the table (which scratched the floor with a sound resembling a screaming cat and made Keith cringe) and glanced towards the oblivious idiots, making silent gagging motions as he watching the sickening display of unsubtle ogling. The younger guy simply rolled his eyes with a nod and sat down in a seat next to Matt. "The barista guy said he'd get someone to bring your drink out."

"You talked to the barista guy?"

Keith's eyes narrowed slightly and a frown played on his lips. "Uh... yeah?"

"Was he, uh," Matt's eyebrows wiggled slightly. " nice?"

"Matt."

"I was just curious!" The man pushed his hair back slightly and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, pausing to put his words together in his head. "You know you don't really talk to people! You seemed to be getting on with him, that's all."

Keith let a frustrated breath press past his lips. "I talk to you guys."

"That's true," Matt agreed. "but you  _only_ talk to us, and we don't even really count! Our squad consists of you, your brother, your brother's almost-girlfriend, and your brother's childhood best friend. Don't get me wrong, I love it, our squad is quite frankly the best squad, but I'm not gonna sugar coat this Princess, we're your only squad."

While the words stung, Keith knew that he was right. Matt had never been one to tell white lies or beat around the truth. He would always call people out on their bullshit, and even though it hurt like hell to be on the receiving end of it, it was reassuring to have that consistent honesty.

"He's not wrong." Shiro piped up in his Dad Voice, suddenly invested in their conversation. "You've always been introverted and, though I love having you around and you're my closest friend, I just wish you'd push your social boundaries a little. Make some friends for yourself, meet new people, even meet a boy maybe!"

Keith was about to let out an angry grunt towards Shiro, when a small voice sounded from behind him. "Hiya guys. So,who here is wanting this pumpkin spice monstrosity?"

" _Pidge?!_ "

Matt's face was a mixture of shock, happiness and fear, and his knuckles had quickly turned white from his death-grip on the table edge.

" _Matt?_ Oh my god, Matt! HOLY SHIT!" A cup was placed on a table next to Keith and immediately Matt leapt out of his seat and crashed into the arms of a kid that looked almost identical to him, but more than a head smaller. The two clung to each other like they were each other's last breaths, hands clutching at skin, clothes and hair, anything that would let them grip each other tighter.

Mini-Matt wriggled out of the man's grasp and held his shoulders at arms length, one of their hands had stretched up to press firmly onto Matt's cheek. "Why are you here?" They gasped, voice breaking slightly. 

"I moved here after college." Matt laughed shakily, and Keith watched over the top of the small one's head as he rubbed the tears out of his eyes. "But I can do that, I'm an adult. Why are _you_ here though?"

"I moved here for college, the Garrison is one of the best colleges for computer science, and I got offered a spot. Mom couldn't say no!" The small one finally turned around and scanned the rest of the group, eyes quickly finding Shiro. "Shiro! Holy Christ on a bicycle!"

Shiro's eyes sparkled as he offered a small grin. "It's nice to see you finally out of your mother's grip Katie. You seem well." Keith's brain suddenly sparked awake. _Katie? Katie Holt? As in Matt's younger sister? As in the one who was never allowed to leave the house?_

"I told you, call me Pidge! You've always been a friend." Her eyes once again searched the faces of the group, before landing on Keith. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, memories of Mario Kart tournaments and Monopoly game nights flashing through his mind. "Keith? Keith Kogane?"

"...Hey Katie?"

Katie shifted her weight and placed a hand on her jutted out hip. "You have a mullet." She pointed out. 

The boy's hand subconsciously lifted and patted the back of his hair. "It just grows like that." Frowning defensively, he pouted and focused his attention on the small dents that scattered the table.

"Hey." She said, pushing up her glasses. Keith refused to look up at her. "Hey." She poked him this time. "Hey. Hey. Hey" Three more pokes."Keeeeeeiittth." Her voice drawled in his ear. Giving in, he swatted her face away with his hand and stared up at her. The small girl's face had a tiny smile plastered onto it. "The mullet looks fine. And... call me Pidge, buddy."

 

**____________________**

 

Once Pidge and Allura had been introduced (Pidge had immediately thrown a knowing look towards Shiro, who's face had turned a deep red), the group let the younger girl get back to work. Matt had spent the next hour drinking his coffee agonizingly slowly, taking small sips when he wasn't gushing about childhood memories of his younger sister. Shiro and Keith contributed when they could, Allura laughing along with the rest of them, letting her imagination be fueled by the other's happy energy.

After they'd all finished their drinks, Matt leant over the counter to get one last hug and reminded Pidge to call him, and they all strolled out of the doors, listening to the bell chime behind them with content smiles and a happy air surrounding them.

They began to split off they're different ways, Matt's route home making him the first to leave, shortly followed by Allura. Just before Allura turned to walk to her home, she pulled Keith into a hug and lowered her voice to a whisper. "See? Socializing wasn't to bad, was it?" She pulled away and fixed him with a Look, then turned quickly and skipped around the corner. 

Keith and Shiro quickly made it back to their shared apartment in a comfortable silence, Shiro only breaking it when he asked what Keith wanted to eat as they made their way up the stairs of their apartment building. 

Despite Shiro fumbling with the keys when they reached their door, they finally made it into their apartment and Shiro quickly flopped onto the sofa, glancing up at Keith. "Are you wanting anything? Food? Movie?" Keith shook his head carefully, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration. "Alright. Well, you know the drill, shout if you need anything, pizza will be here in about thirty minutes."

The younger brother gave a sharp nod before marching to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. 

 

**____________________**

 

Keith had spent the past twenty five minutes staring at his phone as it lay lifelessly on his bed. He'd been sitting, pacing and fidgeting, but never once had his eyes left his phone.

_Why is this so difficult?_

 

**____________________**

 

It had been two hours, and in that time Keith had eaten an entire pizza and watched three episodes of his brother's favorite show, but the phone had stayed in his hands.

 _Come on, just call already!_   _Coward..._

 

**____________________**

 

1am.

Prime reckless decision making time.

Keith pounced on his phone in a moment of impulsiveness, quickly dialing in a number before he could change his mind.

He held the phone to his ear, leg bouncing in anticipation.

A small gasp of breath was sucked into his lungs when he heard the familiar voice, the British accent melting a small portion of his fears.

" _Hello? Keith, what's up?_ "

"Allura," He breathed. This is it. "How do I get into ballet classes?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, hey! Thanks for giving this a read, it's kind of my first shot at a fanfic?  
> I'd really love any positive opinions, and of course I welcome any criticism with open arms! I never want to stop trying to improve my work, so please feel free to leave opinions, request or suggestions.
> 
> Don't be a stranger, drop a comment down below!  
> Until next time :)


	2. Sidewalk Fights and Ballet Tights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is the most uncomfortable thing that has ever been on my body, and I’ve gone out in heels. Heels, Allura, this is worse than heels!”
> 
> “Keith, this is necessary if you don’t want a class full of nine year old girls to be scarred by seeing the outline of your crotch during a dance class!”
> 
> “It’s a thong! It’s just a thong that squeezes me.”
> 
> “Suck it up, buttercup.”
> 
> ~~~~
> 
> In which Keith tries ballet.

The sharp ringing shattered the walls of his dream as Keith awoke with a jump.

**Beep beep beep!**

He patted the desk beside his bed, eyes still closed, trying to locate the source of the galling noise.

**Beep beep beep beep beep beep-**

_Haha! Gotcha!_

He sighed a sigh of relief and reluctantly opened his eyes. The only light was the sun bleeding in from around the drapes. Keith could faintly make out the shadows and shapes of his minimal amount of belongings.

 Birds were chirping quietly in the distance and he could already hear the low hubbub of cars and people on the streets below his apartment. It would be loud and busy had he been down there, but from up in the safety of his room, it was a calm mumble that sent a small shiver crawling up his spine.

After his vision had adjusted to the darkness, he rolled out of bed, groaning as he tumbled onto the floor. Letting his hand fall into the dark space underneath his bed, he prodded the floor clumsily, until his fingers wrapped themselves around the familiar coldness of his phone.

With the press of a button his eyes were assaulted with the blinding light of his phone screen, scrunching closed and pretty much pleading for him to keep them shut and go back to sleep. However, he forced them back open, rushing to turn down the brightness of his phone as he glanced at the numbers screaming at him from the top of his screen.

5:36 am.

Instant regret.

Why, you may ask, would any human willingly subject themselves to the torture of getting out of the warmth and comfort of their bed so soon after sunrise, especially so close to the end of the summer break? Well, in honesty, Keith was asking himself the exact same question and he slowly peeled himself off of the floor.

The answer was surprisingly simple though; a fool with a passion for dance and a promise to a friend.

Keith was awake so early due to his desire to take an hour long walk to Allura’s dance studio by 7am, in order to learn the basics of ballet so that he didn’t look like an incompetent idiot in a class full of 9 year olds.

After showering himself quickly, downing a cup of coffee and packing a bag with a tank top, loose pants and his phone, he opened to door and slipped out carefully, trying not to awaken Shiro.

The city was quiet at 6 in the morning. Nobody was in the mood for chatting as they sipped at their daily morning coffee, and drivers were too tired to get so angry when someone on the road made a silly mistake. It was peaceful and placed a soft smile on Keith’s face as he thought back to the excitement his decision to try ballet had given Allura two weeks ago.

Most of their conversation had been excited “ _really?”_ s and _“I can’t believe you’re coming!”_ s, and the feeling that he was making Allura happy almost made it worth the early start and possible humiliation. Almost.

As he began his long walk, Keith put his headphones on and hurriedly pulled up one of his favourite artists on his phone, quickly selecting one of his favourite songs, smiling to himself as the piano played quietly into his ears, soon followed by the smooth voice.

_“Look inside, look inside your tiny mind  
Then look a bit harder”_

Letting himself walk in time to the secure beats gracing him, his small smile turned into a wide -and slightly manic- grin as the chorus kicked in, quickly causing a gentle ache in his cheeks from the sheer power that this song had over him.

 _“Fuck you! Fuck you very, very much_  
Cause we hate what you do  
And we hate your whole crew  
So please don't stay in touch”

Line by line, Keith somehow allowed himself to get completely and utterly lost in the familiar lyrics. His blinking had slowed, and the music trickled through his veins, controlling his limbs and making him move down the sidewalk in a somewhat dancey manner. Keith didn’t really notice the end of the song approaching, nor did he notice as he walked into the busier part of town.

All of a sudden, he was awoken from his blissful daydream by a man crashing into him as the song faded out, presumably hurrying on his way to work.

Keith’s bag was knocked to the ground, accompanied with a soft grunt, and he felt a slight pang of annoyance as he reached down to retrieve it. Glancing up, he saw a face filled with irritation and quickly opened his mouth to rush an apology.

“Shit, dude, I’m so so-“

“Watch where you’re going, fuckhead! Fucking kids these days, how about you have some damn respect!? If you keep on like that, you’ll get banked on, though maybe that’d teach you a lesson.”

Suddenly, a familiar feeling of white hot indignation sped through him, adrenaline immediately clouding his judgment as he slug his bag over his shoulder and stood up straight, staring the man down.

All Keith’s life, he’d been looked down upon because of his background. All his life he’d been pushed to the side or picked on. He had always been taught to ignore it, but he gave up on that a while ago, adopting a new moral rule; if someone hits you _, hit them back three times fucking harder_.

Before he could even process what he was doing, Keith had clutched the man’s suit jacket in his fists and shoved him backwards with all of his might.

“ _You_ walked into _me_!” Frustration was dripping from every word leaving his lips. “What gives you the right to act like I’m some _shit_ on the bottom of your damn shoe? What, you think I’m the _troubled youth_? I go around _mugging_ your kids on the weekend or something?”

A couple of teenagers had stopped in the street to watch the exchange, one girl in the huddle was watching Keith with a smirk settled on her lips and a glint of admiration shining in her eyes.

By now, the man’s face had grown red with both embarrassment and anger. “ _Excuse me?_ You are a _child_! How _dare_ you speak to me like that?! Do you _know_ who you are talking to?”

Keith spared a glance down to his watch. This was taking too long. “Some dickwad with a suit? Yeah, no, I have no idea who you are, and quite frankly, I don’t _care_. I have somewhere to be, see ya, asshole.”

Rolling his eyes, the younger man combed with fingers through his hair and turned on his heel, once again starting off down the sidewalk.

“You’d better hope to god you don’t see me again!” The man called after him.

Without looking back, Keith flipped him the bird over his shoulder. “Go to hell!”

Ignoring all of the stares and whispers from the daily commuters in the city, Keith put his headphones back on, affectively shutting out the world around him.

 

** ____________________ **

 

Voltron Dance Academy loomed over him as he stood in the parking lot, knuckles white due to the strength of his grip on the strap of his bag. Rows upon rows of huge, glass windows continued upwards for what seemed like about 10 stories.

Keith’s hands shook, doubt and worry quickly seeding themselves in the back of his head. Dance classes were unfamiliar territory. He’d studied dancers online, watched them perform, but he’d never been so close to seeing the proper training that went into being a professional ballet dancer.

He quickly pulled his headphones down to rest around his neck and checked the plain lock screen of his phone.

7:02 am.

He was stalling and he was very well aware of the fact. Keith was late, and even that made his nerves spike for a split second, before he remembered that he was more scared about entering the actual building.

_C’mon Keith. You’ve done scarier things, met people much scarier than a class of nine year olds. Plus, Allura’s gonna be there. She won’t let you embarrass yourself. Probably. Maybe. Fuck, I don’t even know anymo-_

“MY BOY!”

Keith froze as a pair of strong arms wrapped around him in a life-threatening squeeze. A mess of bright ginger hair was tickling his face, the owner of the loud voice still holding Keith’s rigid body close to his own.

Once a seemingly endless period of uncomfortable time had passed, the red-headed man finally relaxed his python-like grip. Keith’s eyes were still as wide as a startled doe’s, but he had somewhat regained his composure.

The man’s hand remained firm on Keith’s shoulders, but he pulled back to inspect the younger boy’s face with a wide grin playing at his lips, travelling right up to his bright blue eyes ( though they almost looked purple in the light).

“Keith, yes? My girl, Allura, told me to be expecting you early this morning. Usually the only people in the academy at this bright and breezy time of the day are Allura, Lance, Hunk, Nyma and myself. Well, you aren’t them, and you _certainly_ aren’t me, so by the power of my _impeccable_ deduction, I guessed you must be you! Crazy, right?”

 _This man is crazy._ The words swam through Keith’s thoughts before he could even consider opening his mouth to speak _. I’m in the arms of a crazy man._

“Oh, sorry mate, I haven’t introduced myself! My name’s Coran, but I’ve started trying to get people ‘round here to call me by my true name- Coran Coran the Gorgeous Man! I work at the front desk of the academy, as well as my full-time role as Allura’s uncle.”

A clammy hand was shot out in front of Keith’s face. Cautiously, he reached up to take the hand, quickly being brought into a hand-crushing handshake. Apparently this man, Coran, was not able to be gentle in any aspect of his introductions, from his hugs, to his speeches and handshakes.

Keith cleared his throat loudly and blinked a few times, for the most part just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming up an imaginary crazy man.

“Uh, hi, Coran? Yeah, I’m Keith, that’s me, Keithy man.” He immediately cringed at the words coming out of his mouth, but Coran just smiled wider. “Ahaha... sorry, this might be rude, but I’m kind of late? Do you know where Allura is?”

“Oh yes, my boy! I’m sorry mate, I didn’t intend to keep you so long! Please, allow me to show you to her studio.”

Shortly after shooting Coran a quick nod and a grateful smile, a hand had found itself on Keith’s back,guiding him inside the building and past the front desk, down a short corridor of numbered rooms, and towards a stairwell.

 

** ____________________ **

 

A door numbered 4A was thrown open and Coran pushed Keith inside, mumbling a farewell, before the door was promptly shut behind him.

“You’re nine- oh wait, no, ten now. You’re ten minutes late.”

His longer hair sprung out of his face as Keith’s head whipped up, quickly finding himself subject to Allura’s stone cold stare. Panic settled in his body, causing his head to spin and his stomach to churn at the thought of upsetting Allura- or even worse, _disappointing_ her.

“Allura,” He breathed, quickly crossing the spacious room, only stopping a few feet from the intimidating ballerina. “I am so, so sorry. I got caught up with some fuckhole in the street, and then your uncle found me outside, and _damn_ does he have a lot to say, and... and... and you’re smiling, Allura, why are you smiling?”

A twinkling laugh danced out of Allura’s mouth, and she swiftly scooped Keith into a gentle hug. “It’s nice to see you Keith, I’m just glad you turned up, be it ten minutes late. Right!” She let him go as if he was red hot coal, clapping her hands together with excited authority. “Time to get you changed!”

“Change? Uh..oh, right!” Keith once again clutched at his bag. “I brought, my dance pants and a tank to-“. He was cut off almost immediately by a bundle of cloth being pushed roughly into his face.

“There you have your shoes, leotard, tights and, uh, you have your dance belt. They should fit, I asked Shiro for your clothes size.” Allura watched as Keith gawped at the pile of garments in his hands. “Of course, if you aren’t comfortable with wearing the male ballet attire, you certainly do not have to.”

Keith paused and spared a glance up at Allura’s kind smile.

“No.” He sent her a firm nod. “I want to.”

“Brilliant! There’s a changing room just at the end of the corridor!”

“Uh, Allura?”

“Yes Keith?”

“Are you okay with, uh, maybe, I don’t know, help me? Uh, I don’t really know what I’m doing and I really don’t want to waste more time.”

“That depends, Keith.” An amused smile played on her lips. “Are you okay with me seeing your penis?”

Keith could feel his face burning as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, keeping his eyes glued to the vinyl floor. “I mean, as long as it’s not, like, you know, in _that_ way, uh, yeah?”

“Fantastic. Let’s not waste time, follow me!”

 

** ____________________ **

 

“This is the most uncomfortable thing that has ever been on my body, and I’ve gone out in heels. _Heels_ , Allura, this is worse than _heels_!”

“Keith, this is necessary if you don’t want a class full of nine year old girls to be scarred by seeing the outline of your crotch during a dance class!”

“It’s a _thong_! It’s just a thong that squeezes me.”

“Suck it up, buttercup.”

 

** ____________________ **

 

Back in studio 4A, Keith pulled at the uniform as he admired the room. It was a large space, the wall of windows and the wall that the door was in were the two shortest in the studio, but could still easily fit a line of at least 20 dancers.

Upon entering the studio via the large wooden door, the wall of mirrors and the barre were directly to the right, this wall with enough room to fit a barre class of over 30. Opposite was a mostly plain white wall, the only interesting feature was a closet-like area, containing the sound system for the room and a few shelves for bags.

The ceilings were high, most likely to allow lifts, jumps and tricks. Keith allowed himself to smile at the thought of spinning through the air, free.

“Ah, one more thing.” Allura leapt behind Keith and scraped his hair up to the top of his head, securing it into a small ponytail with a hair tie, allowing the shorter hair around his face to frame his features. “ _Voila_! You fit in here so nicely now!”

Keith watched in awe as Allura moved quickly across the room in small, quick turns, all the way to the closet space. He continued to awe at how comfortable she appeared in her zone, and she lazily opened the doors and threw their bags on a shelf, quickly grabbing her phone to check the time.

“Okay, we have around thirty-five minutes before class, which should be enough time to quickly go over the basics. How are you feeling?”

Scratching the back of his exposed neck, Keith moved into the centre of the room. For the past thirty minutes, the small bubble of nerves in his stomach had grown and steadily moved through his body, up to his throat.

He was fully prepared to just try to shove that bubble back down for the next two and a half hours, but, looking up at Allura’s kind smile, he felt his walls crumble in her gaze.

“I’m scared.” He confessed. “I’m just not used to being with people when I dance. Like, you know, dancing the same things as people.”

Keith looked back to the mirror, staring himself down. The only thing was, he didn’t recognise himself. Of course, he was in different clothing and had his hair ties back, but most of all, he looked afraid.

“Hey, I know.” Allura walked up behind him, slung a comforting arm over his shoulder, and caught his eyes in the mirror. “I know. All of this must be very foreign. Trust me, I get it. But, believe me when I say that I’m here and I’m looking out for you. Nobody in my academy will be judging you or teasing you. I tolerate many things, but bullying and negativity towards others are certainly not on that list.”

The two dancers, both very different in style and appearance, shared a small smile in the mirror of the woman’s dance studio.

“Right!” Allura broke away and walk towards the barre. Once only a foot away, she turned on her heel and fixed Keith with a smile of steel determination.”How much do you know about ballet?”

 

** ____________________ **

 

In the thirty minutes that the pair spent in studio room 4A, Allura put a name to things that Keith already knew (first to fifth position in arms and feet, first and third arabesque, releve and grand battement), taught him the correct technique for moves that he vaguely knew (pirouettes, sautés and plies) and brought completely new basic steps into his world of dance (battement tendus, glissés, fondus and développés).

“Nice work, Keith. I have two minutes until class, so I’d best be going. You go down to the front desk and ask Coran for some water, then meet me in room 1C, which is ground floor, third along. Take your time, but try to be less than ten minutes this time?”

 And with that, Allura grabbed her bag and disappeared in a flash.

_Right, front desk. That means I have to talk to Coran again? Christ..._

Keith turned to the mirror, scanning his reflection up and down. Only half an hour of simple work and the hair framing his face was already beginning to stick slightly to his sweat. In truth, Keith decided to believe that Allura simply had heating in studio 4A and had decided to turn it on fifteen minutes in.

_You’re getting sidetracked, Keith. You have a two hour class in five minutes. Focus._

Once he collected his bag and made his way out of the room, heading to the front desk, Keith began to wonder what he’s gotten himself into.

 

** ____________________ **

 

“And _one_ , and _two_ , and _three_ , _four_!”

Keith could hear Allura counting the beats of the music as he made his way to room 1C, grateful for the bottle of ice cold water that he had clutched in his hand.

Reaching the light, wooden door, he waited for the final beat of the music before rapping his knuckles on it lightly. Honestly, in the back of his mind, he hoped that Allura may not hear him. However, lo and behold, the princess of Voltron Dance Academy hears _everything_.

Of course, a bright smile greeted him as the door opened. “Keith! Hello! You’re only... eight minutes late this time. You’re really outdoing yourself here.”

Keith stepped carefully through the door, keeping his eyes on Allura, desperately trying to ignore the class of young girls that were staring at him. “I know right, really feeling like a changed man. Must be all of those développés.”

The older woman giggled and tucked a misplaced hairpin back into the tight bun that was holding up her silver her. She turned back to the class with a smile. “Girls, this is Keith. He is not a ballet dancer, but he is looking to study our style, so he will be joining us today. This is his first ballet class, so I’m expecting you to be at your best. Keith,” she smiled. “Say hello.”

Keith glanced nervously around the room, which looked almost identical to 4A, before his eyes landed on the line of around 20 girls standing neatly next to the barre, all dressed in light purple leotards and light pinks tights.

“Hey, uh, I’m Keith. I do dance, but I usually dance a kind of street-influenced freestyle. Basically, this is so out of my comfort zone, but I think what you guys do is amazing, so I wanted to try it out.”

One by one, each of the young girls smiled slightly, clearly impressed by his interest in their dance.

“Fantastic! Thank you, Keith. If you want to take a place on the barre behind Lindsey, that’d be great. Lindsey, give him a wave.”

At the back of the line, there was a slightly taller girl with her blonde hair pulled into a slick bun, a purple ribbon tied around the base of it, nicely matching her leotard. She grinned widely at Keith as she shot her hand in the air, waving it frantically.

Allura let out a quiet laugh as she turned to face the slightly taller man beside her. “Remember, if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks, ‘Lura.”

In response, she offered a small smile and nod, placed her hand on his back, and gently guided Keith in the direction of Lindsey.

When he reached the barre, heart thumping deafeningly in his chest, the girl in front turned around and whispered so quiet that Keith almost didn’t catch her words. “I like your shoes.”

Keith let his feelings of fear bubble away as he smiled at the girl- Lindsey- and focussed in on Allura’s teachings.

 

** ____________________ **

 

An hour into the class, another boy burst through the door of the classroom.

The girls and Keith were taking a five minute drink break when he entered, instantly gaining the focus of every eye in the room.

Now, the ‘frantic and sweaty’ look doesn’t usually do it for Keith, but he was willing to ignore that small detail, mainly because, in this moment, his brain was failing to function normally.

This boy, in a black leotard and black tights, was gorgeous.

As in, he looked like a greek god. He had sculpted legs, a lean but strong-looking body. His face was built to perfection, full lips, tanned skin and freckled scattered around his face.

To put it simply, he was blindingly beautiful.

And Keith was not good at being a normal person around beautiful people.

This was only proven by the fact that, as the boy’s eyes did a scan of the room and landed on Keith, he literally chocked on his water.

His embarrassment was not aided by the quizzing look that he got sent by the boy, before he turned back to Allura.

“Allura.” The woman in question stood and walked quickly towards the walking angel. “Allura, please, do you know where my shoes are? Someone has my shoes.”

“Lance, Lance, calm down.” The ballet teacher placed her hands on the boy’s shoulders. God, Keith wished he was her. “I’m sure they’re somewhere around here. Did you have them during practise?”

The man- Keith assumed his name was Lance- let out a frustrated sigh. “ _Yes_ , but then I went to shower and when I came back out, they weren’t there!”

All hint of other conversation in the room had ceased everyone’s attention undivided, solely on the pair at the front of the class.

“Look, I have a class now, but I’ll help you look for them after, and I’ll put a notice out to all the parents.”

“Allura, _please_ ,” Keith felt an unwelcome sinking feeling in his stomach as he heard the man’s voice break. “I _need_ to practise, and I can’t without these shoes.”

The beautiful boy looked helplessly at Allura, who ran a hand across her face, obviously conflicted. “Lance, these girls have their exam in-“

“I’ll help him.”

Keith didn’t realise that the words had been spoken by him until everybody’s eyes had turned to fix on him.

_Well, no turning back now._

“I’m not doing an exam. Allura, I’ll come back another day, but you need to focus on your girls, and this guy needs his shoes. I’ll help him.”

 

** ____________________ **

 

And that is how Keith Kogane found himself searching every inch of the first five floors of Voltron Dance Academy for a pair of lost ballet shoes. It took _two hours_ to reach the fourth floor, as he searched every studio room, toilet, shower room, changing room and locker.

Fourth floor shower room, locker number 56. That’s where he found them. A pair of bright blue ballet shoes.

 _“Lance!”_ Keith ran as fast as he could to find the owner of the pair, and by the time he reached the eighth floor, he was gasping for breath.

In honesty, Keith knew it was worth it when he saw the spark in behind Lance’s eyes light up again. The boy he had only just met stared at Keith with such happiness that Keith vowed to himself to do these kinds of things more often.

“Holy shit, dude! Thank you so much! I was wondering though... what are you even doing here though anyway?”

Keith took it back. Any nice or kind thought that he had thought in the past three hours, Keith took it back.

“You must be _fucking_ with me? I just spent a good amount of my time looking for _your_ shit, and _that’s_ all you can say? ‘ _What are you doing here?_ ’ I don’t even _know_ you! _You don’t even know my name!_ Look, just get the fuck out of my way, ballet boy.”

Pushing past Lance, he heard a laugh of disbelief. “ _Ballet boy?_ Is that supposed to insult me or something? At least I’m fucking _good_ at it. You were in a _Grade 3_ class! You must be more than _twice_ the age of _everyone_ else in there. Look, I don’t give a shit, get out. Go on, go!”

“Yeah, I’m going.” Keith opened the door to the stairwell, throwing one final look at the man he’d left in the corridor. “If you see Allura, tell her to get the clothes from Shiro. Oh, and tell her that I’m not coming back.”

Then he took off down the stairwell, eyes burning with fiery tears, and shut the door on the boy with the blue ballet shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, it's finally here!  
> Sorry that it took sooo long, but I didn't anticipate how busy I'd be with exams.  
> Also, happy holidays to all!!!!  
> Thanks for being patient with me, as always :)
> 
> It's 2:30am and I didn't get much editing done, so if you see any mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me!  
> Any recommendations for plot or style are greatly appreciated, I love hearing about what you guys are interested in ready!
> 
> Don't be a stranger, leave a comment :)  
> Goodbye for now <3


End file.
